The Democratic Way

Where the arrow fallsA life is takenIts flight was always destined to findThe rebel's heartThe believers who shake this worldExtinguished by the powers of state

For the rule of law defines societyThis history that made all men equalThat teaches our children democracy

This democracy that America holds dearAnd England expectsHas been stolen, hocked to the highest bidderReformed homogenised and re distributedBy the invisible hand of a powerful few

Your choices defined by controlHidden in the refuse tip of mankindAusterity and debt Dumped by Druid bankers mesmerizing us With chemical whispers that poison our dreamsDemocracy has found a new ownerAnd we are its victim

A nation of employees procreating our lives in debtGovernment no longer the servantPeople in a cage, no escapeFor we are the slavesDestined to die in unmarked gravesForgotten by the winds of time

This illusion that this, is the bed we choose, But even this is rentedFor all property returns to the soilWaiting for the next solicitors pen

The money that you scrapeIts value has been rapedSlowly evaporating in theInflation of wet banker's dreams

For your democracy was always a dreamAnd this nightmare is here to stayYour heroes have all been secondedTo protect the carcass that these jackals share

And the rebels that are leftWill never fire a shot in anger again, For The slave has nothing to fight forBecause nothing will ever belong to you.Except for a copy of their democracyAnd another billFor explaining all this to you.

Servitors of the highest God

On the plain of Duraa twenty-seven meter high golden statue stand, that people can see for miles farand the esteemed people, commanders and princesand the king is therewith a big crowdand almost everybody that serves him.

In different languages it is announcedthat everybody must fall down, have got to pray to itwhen the music instruments playand we see the king sitting boldly on his throne

and the people are excited, it’s a great festivaland suddenly there is silence, in the big fire ovenflames shoot up brightlyand expectation is written on faces.

All at once the sound rises of horn, zither, flute, luteharp and bagpipesand all kinds of instruments.

Around us the crowds of people bend downonto the earth and the three of us stand while a light winds is pulling on our cloaksand I lift my handto shade the sun from shining in my eyes

while the music is inundatingand everybody can hear the musicand friends shout in fear to us: “Bend! Bend down! Bend before the master and lord! ”

Armed soldier take usright up to king Nebuchadnezzarand it’s clear that he is ragingand indignantly he gets up from his throne

and walks right up to usand in anger he wants to knowif we are impudentto disobey his commands?

“Are you too stupid to knowthat no Godcan save you from my hand? ”

We say that the God that we serveis almighty and if He does not rescue us, it will be known that we serveno other gods.

At that moment Nebuchadnezzar gets angrierand his face is red with rageand in his eyes hate is glowingand he stops talkingshouting loudly for the fire to be madeseven times hotter

and his servants run in fearto the oven to make it still hotterand there are flames and clouds of smoke.

“Take them to the fire, take them to the fire, I command you, ”Nebuchadnezzar roars at the strongest menof his army and we are cuffedand in our clothes are thrown into the firecausing us to fall right into the flamesand those that threw us inare immediately killed by the great heat

and we cannot evenfeel the heatand nothing of us is burningand while we are still talkingwith each otherthe Son of Godhimself visits us right there

and a distance from the oventhe king shouts in great fear: “Shadrach, Meshach and Abednegoservitors of the highest God, come out of the fire! ”

What I Have Not Been To The Few I Loved

What I have not been to the few I loved, the cost of what I am. Whoever that is. And the poor boy happy ending that was supposed to conclude in money to redeem the aristocratic poverty of a doomed childhood, scrapped from the start as slavishly predictable.

I shone for a while, angry and bright and university was an easy ordeal of guiltwhile my mother washed floors in the Uplands, and I went through culture shock in my own country to learn that not everybody lived the way we didnever further than twenty concrete blocks away from the despair and poverty of home.

Three meals a day and shopping tours to Europe, with a jaunt to Auschwitz along the way. My mother would dress up for three hours to go to the corner-store. And it was everything I could do to keep from laughing out loud at the pygmies of pain in English Honourswho cried their eyes out in the library because their mothers were social butterflies and it was the sixties on the West Coast when no one was suppose to live in vain.

And I remember the little wet doctor's sons who used to remind me of who they thought I was, asking me, at the end of an advanced Shakespeare seminar, at the end of a creative writing class, after a three hour oral exam on Marlowe, to sell them heroin I didn't use or dealto make them feel, like the postcards of Auschwitzthat showed the skulls in the furnaces and read Arbeit macht frei, they were slumming with reality, lest I forget despite how well I did in class, where I came from. And the difference was obvious and lasting. So many things I had to master just to wear a plausible lifemaskinto the golden future of the middle class.How to sit down at a table and eat with cutlery as if I were doing surgery. How to relate to the trivializing of the poor, listening squeamishly to the screening myths of how the rich suffer at their hands.How my mother with hands and knees, cracked like lobsters boiled in bleachwas leeching them dry on welfare.

I broke up with their daughters. I punished their sons atavistically and losing my taste for trying to proveyou could find diamonds in the coalbin of everyone's ancestry, and I could stand eye to eye with the stars as well as anyone, I ran with a wolfpack of ex-cons who accepted me as a well-educated one of their own. And through it allI returned to poetry after every brawl and threw everybody off my back to climb a private mountain of my ownwhile my mother said do what makes you happy and went on scrubbing floors.

A Few Remarks on Goats, Asses and the Dead Hand

I don't mind kings and dukes and things;I don't mind wigs or maces;I don't mind crowns or robes or gownsOr ruffles, swords or laces But what I do object to, and some others more than I,Are the mad old, bad old practices these baubles signify.

Good friends, brother Australians and fellow voters;I think that you will agree with me that few of us are dotersUpon the customs, practices, fooleries and tommyrotics of the mouldy past;Nor are we apt to castA reverent eye behindward upon ancient precedent:Nor do we consentTo let the cold, clammy and unusually muddling Dead HandControl the destinies of this our native land.Nay, rather do we standTiptoe upon the summit of the Present, peering out,With faces eager and expectant eyes, into the mystic Future. Have you a doubtThat in Progress, Business-like Procedure, Common-sense Habit, and Up-to-Date Method we are all earnest believers?Is it not so?....Well, I don't knowSo much about it. 'Twere easy to prove, good friends, that we are, in thelump, followers of Make-Believe, triflers with Humbug and inance self-deceivers.'Twere easy to prove that our ass-like attribute indeed surpassesThat of innumerable and intensely asinine asses.And here, good friends, I extend to all of you my blessin',And conclude, amidst great applause, the first lesson.

Secondly, my brothers Right-thinking persons, men-in-the-street, common-sense individuals, and people who call a spade a spade, and others There are full many of us who deeply deploreThe use or display of these gauds, decorations, baubles and trappings that belong to the unpractical, superstitious and quite unfashionable days of yore.We deride, for instance, the ntion that the caudal appendage of a deceased horsePerched upon the cranium of an erudite justice can add to his dignity or give to his remarks more force.In short, we class as mere bunkum, bosh, flapdoodle and other sludgeThe contention that the hind end of a horse can in any way assist the fore end of a judge.The wig, the gown, the staff, the rod, the mace,We regard as obsolete, and entirely out of place.If there is one thing more than another upon which we pride ourselves it is, I suppose,The fact that we scorn to wear grandpa's old-fashioned clothes.The poor old gentleman's pantaloons, his shirts, his cravat, his fob-chain, his frill-whiskers are all anathema to us.Good friends, why all this fuss?Why waste all this precious energy in denouncing the wig, the gown, the mace?They may be, in a sense, out of place;Yet, why should these things shock you?Believe me, they are perfectly innocuOus, and furthermore, dear friends,They serve their ends;Fo why deny these toysTo that large, mentally-bogged, and much musinderstood class of elderly girls and boysWhose state demands some sign or symbolTo push an idea or a principle into their heads, even as the thimbleThrusts the needle into the cloth?Then why so wrath?Heed ye, good friends, the parable of the beam and the mote.Nay, I crave your pardon, but I have known a not particularly intelligent goatTo view materially essential matters with a more discerning eye; to possess, so to speak, more inate perspicacityThan you - that is to say, us. Nay, grasp not at the seeming audacityOf these few remarks; for perfect perspicuityAttends them, and I like not ambiguity.As thinking machines the ass, the goat, good people are preferable; at least, so it appears.And here, the ending of my second lesson is attended by your deafening and appreciative cheers.

My worthy friends, ye who scorn to wear my poor grandpa's clothesGet down from your pedestals, O ye modern intellectual giants; let each decline his scornful and uptilted nose.Deride, would ye, grandpa's ancient mace?Abolish it, would ye, and hunt it off the place? What's the matter with it? It's not eating anythng, is it?And it might prove handy if a masked burglar, or a Trust or a mad dog paid theHouse a visit.Gird, would ye, at grandpa's wig, at his gown trimmed with the overcoats of late lamented rabbits?But, Oh! my up-to-date brothers, what have ye to say about grandpa's and great grandpa's and great-great-grandpa's ridiculous customs, absurd precedents,inance systems and obsolete habits?What about that musty, dusty, mouldy, mildewed, hoary, Tory, injurious, time wasting, insane, inane, self-ridiculed, unwieldy and utterly unprofitable system of Party Govrnment? Great-great-great-great-grandpa's cherishedSystem, good friends?Does it serve our modern ends?Or is it, think you, obsolete and absurd?I pause for a reply....What! Not a word?Do I hear you raving to have it abolished?Yearn ye to see this thing demolished?Go to the ass, ye dullards! He doesn't eat mouldy sawdust when there's good hay about.And here, kind friends, I pass to 'fourthly,' flattered by your encouraging shout.

Friends, countrymen and fellow-voters of this fair land,All ye smart, up-to-date people who scorn dear grandpa's raiment, are you feeling his dead hand?Think ye that ancient fist should interfere so in the vital affairs of to-day?Or are ye so apathetic that you don't care a tuppenny curse either way?'Tis cheap and easy to scoff at granpa's gauds and trappings and to the Devil send 'em;But have ye ever seriously considered such things as elected Mnistries or theInitiative and Referendum?Not you! You shirk, good friend, you shirk.That means Work!

Friends, I am done....I know not what ye intend to do about it, and I haven't much hope; but, for my part,I say unto ye, in a spirit of true brotherly love, and with my hand upon my heart,That I have enjoyed the acquaintance of asses who were never fooled by musty precedent. Aye, and intelligent goatsWho scorned the jam-tin diet of their forebears when there was good grass about but they had no votes.And what is a goat without a vote?

The Iliad: Book 5

Then Pallas Minerva put valour into the heart of Diomed, son ofTydeus, that he might excel all the other Argives, and cover himselfwith glory. She made a stream of fire flare from his shield and helmetlike the star that shines most brilliantly in summer after its bath inthe waters of Oceanus- even such a fire did she kindle upon his headand shoulders as she bade him speed into the thickest hurly-burly ofthe fight.Now there was a certain rich and honourable man among the Trojans,priest of Vulcan, and his name was Dares. He had two sons, Phegeus andIdaeus, both of them skilled in all the arts of war. These two cameforward from the main body of Trojans, and set upon Diomed, he beingon foot, while they fought from their chariot. When they were close upto one another, Phegeus took aim first, but his spear went overDiomed's left shoulder without hitting him. Diomed then threw, and hisspear sped not in vain, for it hit Phegeus on the breast near thenipple, and he fell from his chariot. Idaeus did not dare tobestride his brother's body, but sprang from the chariot and took toflight, or he would have shared his brother's fate; whereon Vulcansaved him by wrapping him in a cloud of darkness, that his oldfather might not be utterly overwhelmed with grief; but the son ofTydeus drove off with the horses, and bade his followers take themto the ships. The Trojans were scared when they saw the two sons ofDares, one of them in fright and the other lying dead by hischariot. Minerva, therefore, took Mars by the hand and said, "Mars,Mars, bane of men, bloodstained stormer of cities, may we not nowleave the Trojans and Achaeans to fight it out, and see to which ofthe two Jove will vouchsafe the victory? Let us go away, and thusavoid his anger."So saying, she drew Mars out of the battle, and set him down uponthe steep banks of the Scamander. Upon this the Danaans drove theTrojans back, and each one of their chieftains killed his man. FirstKing Agamemnon flung mighty Odius, captain of the Halizoni, from hischariot. The spear of Agamemnon caught him on the broad of his back,just as he was turning in flight; it struck him between theshoulders and went right through his chest, and his armour rangrattling round him as he fell heavily to the ground.Then Idomeneus killed Phaesus, son of Borus the Meonian, who hadcome from Varne. Mighty Idomeneus speared him on the right shoulder ashe was mounting his chariot, and the darkness of death enshroudedhim as he fell heavily from the car.The squires of Idomeneus spoiled him of his armour, whileMenelaus, son of Atreus, killed Scamandrius the son of Strophius, amighty huntsman and keen lover of the chase. Diana herself hadtaught him how to kill every kind of wild creature that is bred inmountain forests, but neither she nor his famed skill in archery couldnow save him, for the spear of Menelaus struck him in the back as hewas flying; it struck him between the shoulders and went right throughhis chest, so that he fell headlong and his armour rang rattling roundhim.Meriones then killed Phereclus the son of Tecton, who was the son ofHermon, a man whose hand was skilled in all manner of cunningworkmanship, for Pallas Minerva had dearly loved him. He it was thatmade the ships for Alexandrus, which were the beginning of allmischief, and brought evil alike both on the Trojans and on Alexandrushimself; for he heeded not the decrees of heaven. Meriones overtookhim as he was flying, and struck him on the right buttock. The pointof the spear went through the bone into the bladder, and death cameupon him as he cried aloud and fell forward on his knees.Meges, moreover, slew Pedaeus, son of Antenor, who, though he wasa bastard, had been brought up by Theano as one of her own children,for the love she bore her husband. The son of Phyleus got close upto him and drove a spear into the nape of his neck: it went underhis tongue all among his teeth, so he bit the cold bronze, and felldead in the dust.And Eurypylus, son of Euaemon, killed Hypsenor, the son of nobleDolopion, who had been made priest of the river Scamander, and washonoured among the people as though he were a god. Eurypylus gavehim chase as he was flying before him, smote him with his sword uponthe arm, and lopped his strong hand from off it. The bloody handfell to the ground, and the shades of death, with fate that no man canwithstand, came over his eyes.Thus furiously did the battle rage between them. As for the son ofTydeus, you could not say whether he was more among the Achaeans orthe Trojans. He rushed across the plain like a winter torrent that hasburst its barrier in full flood; no dykes, no walls of fruitfulvineyards can embank it when it is swollen with rain from heaven,but in a moment it comes tearing onward, and lays many a field wastethat many a strong man hand has reclaimed- even so were the densephalanxes of the Trojans driven in rout by the son of Tydeus, and manythough they were, they dared not abide his onslaught.Now when the son of Lycaon saw him scouring the plain and drivingthe Trojans pell-mell before him, he aimed an arrow and hit thefront part of his cuirass near the shoulder: the arrow went rightthrough the metal and pierced the flesh, so that the cuirass wascovered with blood. On this the son of Lycaon shouted in triumph,"Knights Trojans, come on; the bravest of the Achaeans is wounded, andhe will not hold out much longer if King Apollo was indeed with mewhen I sped from Lycia hither."Thus did he vaunt; but his arrow had not killed Diomed, who withdrewand made for the chariot and horses of Sthenelus, the son of Capaneus."Dear son of Capaneus," said he, "come down from your chariot, anddraw the arrow out of my shoulder."Sthenelus sprang from his chariot, and drew the arrow from thewound, whereon the blood came spouting out through the hole that hadbeen made in his shirt. Then Diomed prayed, saying, "Hear me, daughterof aegis-bearing Jove, unweariable, if ever you loved my father welland stood by him in the thick of a fight, do the like now by me; grantme to come within a spear's throw of that man and kill him. He hasbeen too quick for me and has wounded me; and now he is boastingthat I shall not see the light of the sun much longer."Thus he prayed, and Pallas Minerva heard him; she made his limbssupple and quickened his hands and his feet. Then she went up close tohim and said, "Fear not, Diomed, to do battle with the Trojans, forI have set in your heart the spirit of your knightly father Tydeus.Moreover, I have withdrawn the veil from your eyes, that you know godsand men apart. If, then, any other god comes here and offers youbattle, do not fight him; but should Jove's daughter Venus come,strike her with your spear and wound her."When she had said this Minerva went away, and the son of Tydeusagain took his place among the foremost fighters, three times morefierce even than he had been before. He was like a lion that somemountain shepherd has wounded, but not killed, as he is springing overthe wall of a sheep-yard to attack the sheep. The shepherd hasroused the brute to fury but cannot defend his flock, so he takesshelter under cover of the buildings, while the sheep,panic-stricken on being deserted, are smothered in heaps one on top ofthe other, and the angry lion leaps out over the sheep-yard wall. Eventhus did Diomed go furiously about among the Trojans.He killed Astynous, and shepherd of his people, the one with athrust of his spear, which struck him above the nipple, the other witha sword- cut on the collar-bone, that severed his shoulder from hisneck and back. He let both of them lie, and went in pursuit of Abasand Polyidus, sons of the old reader of dreams Eurydamas: they nevercame back for him to read them any more dreams, for mighty Diomed madean end of them. He then gave chase to Xanthus and Thoon, the twosons of Phaenops, both of them very dear to him, for he was now wornout with age, and begat no more sons to inherit his possessions. ButDiomed took both their lives and left their father sorrowing bitterly,for he nevermore saw them come home from battle alive, and his kinsmendivided his wealth among themselves.Then he came upon two sons of Priam, Echemmon and Chromius, asthey were both in one chariot. He sprang upon them as a lion fastenson the neck of some cow or heifer when the herd is feeding in acoppice. For all their vain struggles he flung them both from theirchariot and stripped the armour from their bodies. Then he gavetheir horses to his comrades to take them back to the ships.When Aeneas saw him thus making havoc among the ranks, he wentthrough the fight amid the rain of spears to see if he could findPandarus. When he had found the brave son of Lycaon he said,"Pandarus, where is now your bow, your winged arrows, and yourrenown as an archer, in respect of which no man here can rival you noris there any in Lycia that can beat you? Lift then your hands toJove and send an arrow at this fellow who is going so masterfullyabout, and has done such deadly work among the Trojans. He haskilled many a brave man- unless indeed he is some god who is angrywith the Trojans about their sacrifices, and and has set his handagainst them in his displeasure."And the son of Lycaon answered, "Aeneas, I take him for none otherthan the son of Tydeus. I know him by his shield, the visor of hishelmet, and by his horses. It is possible that he may be a god, but ifhe is the man I say he is, he is not making all this havoc withoutheaven's help, but has some god by his side who is shrouded in a cloudof darkness, and who turned my arrow aside when it had hit him. I havetaken aim at him already and hit him on the right shoulder; my arrowwent through the breastpiece of his cuirass; and I made sure Ishould send him hurrying to the world below, but it seems that Ihave not killed him. There must be a god who is angry with me.Moreover I have neither horse nor chariot. In my father's stablesthere are eleven excellent chariots, fresh from the builder, quitenew, with cloths spread over them; and by each of them there stand apair of horses, champing barley and rye; my old father Lycaon urged meagain and again when I was at home and on the point of starting, totake chariots and horses with me that I might lead the Trojans inbattle, but I would not listen to him; it would have been muchbetter if I had done so, but I was thinking about the horses, whichhad been used to eat their fill, and I was afraid that in such a greatgathering of men they might be ill-fed, so I left them at home andcame on foot to Ilius armed only with my bow and arrows. These itseems, are of no use, for I have already hit two chieftains, thesons of Atreus and of Tydeus, and though I drew blood surely enough, Ihave only made them still more furious. I did ill to take my bowdown from its peg on the day I led my band of Trojans to Ilius inHector's service, and if ever I get home again to set eyes on mynative place, my wife, and the greatness of my house, may some one cutmy head off then and there if I do not break the bow and set it on ahot fire- such pranks as it plays me."Aeneas answered, "Say no more. Things will not mend till we two goagainst this man with chariot and horses and bring him to a trial ofarms. Mount my chariot, and note how cleverly the horses of Tros canspeed hither and thither over the plain in pursuit or flight. IfJove again vouchsafes glory to the son of Tydeus they will carry ussafely back to the city. Take hold, then, of the whip and reinswhile I stand upon the car to fight, or else do you wait this man'sonset while I look after the horses.""Aeneas." replied the son of Lycaon, "take the reins and drive; ifwe have to fly before the son of Tydeus the horses will go betterfor their own driver. If they miss the sound of your voice when theyexpect it they may be frightened, and refuse to take us out of thefight. The son of Tydeus will then kill both of us and take thehorses. Therefore drive them yourself and I will be ready for him withmy spear."They then mounted the chariot and drove full-speed towards the sonof Tydeus. Sthenelus, son of Capaneus, saw them coming and said toDiomed, "Diomed, son of Tydeus, man after my own heart, I see twoheroes speeding towards you, both of them men of might the one askilful archer, Pandarus son of Lycaon, the other, Aeneas, whosesire is Anchises, while his mother is Venus. Mount the chariot and letus retreat. Do not, I pray you, press so furiously forward, or you mayget killed."Diomed looked angrily at him and answered: "Talk not of flight,for I shall not listen to you: I am of a race that knows neitherflight nor fear, and my limbs are as yet unwearied. I am in no mind tomount, but will go against them even as I am; Pallas Minerva bids mebe afraid of no man, and even though one of them escape, theirsteeds shall not take both back again. I say further, and lay mysaying to your heart- if Minerva sees fit to vouchsafe me the glory ofkilling both, stay your horses here and make the reins fast to the rimof the chariot; then be sure you spring Aeneas' horses and drivethem from the Trojan to the Achaean ranks. They are of the stockthat great Jove gave to Tros in payment for his son Ganymede, andare the finest that live and move under the sun. King Anchises stolethe blood by putting his mares to them without Laomedon's knowledge,and they bore him six foals. Four are still in his stables, but hegave the other two to Aeneas. We shall win great glory if we cantake them."Thus did they converse, but the other two had now driven close up tothem, and the son of Lycaon spoke first. "Great and mighty son,"said he, "of noble Tydeus, my arrow failed to lay you low, so I willnow try with my spear."He poised his spear as he spoke and hurled it from him. It struckthe shield of the son of Tydeus; the bronze point pierced it andpassed on till it reached the breastplate. Thereon the son of Lycaonshouted out and said, "You are hit clean through the belly; you willnot stand out for long, and the glory of the fight is mine."But Diomed all undismayed made answer, "You have missed, not hit,and before you two see the end of this matter one or other of youshall glut tough-shielded Mars with his blood."With this he hurled his spear, and Minerva guided it on toPandarus's nose near the eye. It went crashing in among his whiteteeth; the bronze point cut through the root of his to tongue,coming out under his chin, and his glistening armour rang rattlinground him as he fell heavily to the ground. The horses started asidefor fear, and he was reft of life and strength.Aeneas sprang from his chariot armed with shield and spear,fearing lest the Achaeans should carry off the body. He bestrode it asa lion in the pride of strength, with shield and on spear before himand a cry of battle on his lips resolute to kill the first that shoulddare face him. But the son of Tydeus caught up a mighty stone, so hugeand great that as men now are it would take two to lift it;nevertheless he bore it aloft with ease unaided, and with this hestruck Aeneas on the groin where the hip turns in the joint that iscalled the "cup-bone." The stone crushed this joint, and broke boththe sinews, while its jagged edges tore away all the flesh. The herofell on his knees, and propped himself with his hand resting on theground till the darkness of night fell upon his eyes. And nowAeneas, king of men, would have perished then and there, had not hismother, Jove's daughter Venus, who had conceived him by Anchiseswhen he was herding cattle, been quick to mark, and thrown her twowhite arms about the body of her dear son. She protected him bycovering him with a fold of her own fair garment, lest some Danaanshould drive a spear into his breast and kill him.Thus, then, did she bear her dear son out of the fight. But theson of Capaneus was not unmindful of the orders that Diomed hadgiven him. He made his own horses fast, away from the hurly-burly,by binding the reins to the rim of the chariot. Then he sprang uponAeneas's horses and drove them from the Trojan to the Achaean ranks.When he had so done he gave them over to his chosen comradeDeipylus, whom he valued above all others as the one who was mostlike-minded with himself, to take them on to the ships. He thenremounted his own chariot, seized the reins, and drove with allspeed in search of the son of Tydeus.Now the son of Tydeus was in pursuit of the Cyprian goddess, spearin hand, for he knew her to be feeble and not one of those goddessesthat can lord it among men in battle like Minerva or Enyo the wasterof cities, and when at last after a long chase he caught her up, heflew at her and thrust his spear into the flesh of her delicatehand. The point tore through the ambrosial robe which the Graces hadwoven for her, and pierced the skin between her wrist and the palmof her hand, so that the immortal blood, or ichor, that flows in theveins of the blessed gods, came pouring from the wound; for the godsdo not eat bread nor drink wine, hence they have no blood such asours, and are immortal. Venus screamed aloud, and let her son fall,but Phoebus Apollo caught him in his arms, and hid him in a cloud ofdarkness, lest some Danaan should drive a spear into his breast andkill him; and Diomed shouted out as he left her, "Daughter of Jove,leave war and battle alone, can you not be contented with beguilingsilly women? If you meddle with fighting you will get what will makeyou shudder at the very name of war."The goddess went dazed and discomfited away, and Iris, fleet asthe wind, drew her from the throng, in pain and with her fair skin allbesmirched. She found fierce Mars waiting on the left of the battle,with his spear and his two fleet steeds resting on a cloud; whereonshe fell on her knees before her brother and implored him to let herhave his horses. "Dear brother," she cried, "save me, and give me yourhorses to take me to Olympus where the gods dwell. I am badlywounded by a mortal, the son of Tydeus, who would now fight evenwith father Jove."Thus she spoke, and Mars gave her his gold-bedizened steeds. Shemounted the chariot sick and sorry at heart, while Iris sat beside herand took the reins in her hand. She lashed her horses on and they flewforward nothing loth, till in a trice they were at high Olympus, wherethe gods have their dwelling. There she stayed them, unloosed themfrom the chariot, and gave them their ambrosial forage; but Venusflung herself on to the lap of her mother Dione, who threw her armsabout her and caressed her, saying, "Which of the heavenly beingshas been treating you in this way, as though you had been doingsomething wrong in the face of day?"And laughter-loving Venus answered, "Proud Diomed, the son ofTydeus, wounded me because I was bearing my dear son Aeneas, whom Ilove best of all mankind, out of the fight. The war is no longer onebetween Trojans and Achaeans, for the Danaans have now taken tofighting with the immortals.""Bear it, my child," replied Dione, "and make the best of it. Wedwellers in Olympus have to put up with much at the hands of men,and we lay much suffering on one another. Mars had to suffer when Otusand Ephialtes, children of Aloeus, bound him in cruel bonds, so thathe lay thirteen months imprisoned in a vessel of bronze. Mars wouldhave then perished had not fair Eeriboea, stepmother to the sons ofAloeus, told Mercury, who stole him away when he was already well-nighworn out by the severity of his bondage. Juno, again, suffered whenthe mighty son of Amphitryon wounded her on the right breast with athree-barbed arrow, and nothing could assuage her pain. So, also,did huge Hades, when this same man, the son of aegis-bearing Jove, hithim with an arrow even at the gates of hell, and hurt him badly.Thereon Hades went to the house of Jove on great Olympus, angry andfull of pain; and the arrow in his brawny shoulder caused him greatanguish till Paeeon healed him by spreading soothing herbs on thewound, for Hades was not of mortal mould. Daring, head-strong,evildoer who recked not of his sin in shooting the gods that dwellin Olympus. And now Minerva has egged this son of Tydeus on againstyourself, fool that he is for not reflecting that no man who fightswith gods will live long or hear his children prattling about hisknees when he returns from battle. Let, then, the son of Tydeus seethat he does not have to fight with one who is stronger than youare. Then shall his brave wife Aegialeia, daughter of Adrestus,rouse her whole house from sleep, wailing for the loss of her weddedlord, Diomed the bravest of the Achaeans."So saying, she wiped the ichor from the wrist of her daughter withboth hands, whereon the pain left her, and her hand was healed. ButMinerva and Juno, who were looking on, began to taunt Jove withtheir mocking talk, and Minerva was first to speak. "Father Jove,"said she, "do not be angry with me, but I think the Cyprian musthave been persuading some one of the Achaean women to go with theTrojans of whom she is so very fond, and while caressing one orother of them she must have torn her delicate hand with the gold pinof the woman's brooch."The sire of gods and men smiled, and called golden Venus to hisside. "My child," said he, "it has not been given you to be a warrior.Attend, henceforth, to your own delightful matrimonial duties, andleave all this fighting to Mars and to Minerva."Thus did they converse. But Diomed sprang upon Aeneas, though heknew him to be in the very arms of Apollo. Not one whit did he fearthe mighty god, so set was he on killing Aeneas and stripping him ofhis armour. Thrice did he spring forward with might and main to slayhim, and thrice did Apollo beat back his gleaming shield. When hewas coming on for the fourth time, as though he were a god, Apolloshouted to him with an awful voice and said, "Take heed, son ofTydeus, and draw off; think not to match yourself against gods, formen that walk the earth cannot hold their own with the immortals."The son of Tydeus then gave way for a little space, to avoid theanger of the god, while Apollo took Aeneas out of the crowd and sethim in sacred Pergamus, where his temple stood. There, within themighty sanctuary, Latona and Diana healed him and made him glorious tobehold, while Apollo of the silver bow fashioned a wraith in thelikeness of Aeneas, and armed as he was. Round this the Trojans andAchaeans hacked at the bucklers about one another's breasts, hewingeach other's round shields and light hide-covered targets. ThenPhoebus Apollo said to Mars, "Mars, Mars, bane of men, blood-stainedstormer of cities, can you not go to this man, the son of Tydeus,who would now fight even with father Jove, and draw him out of thebattle? He first went up to the Cyprian and wounded her in the handnear her wrist, and afterwards sprang upon me too, as though he were agod."He then took his seat on the top of Pergamus, while murderous Marswent about among the ranks of the Trojans, cheering them on, in thelikeness of fleet Acamas chief of the Thracians. "Sons of Priam," saidhe, "how long will you let your people be thus slaughtered by theAchaeans? Would you wait till they are at the walls of Troy? Aeneasthe son of Anchises has fallen, he whom we held in as high honour asHector himself. Help me, then, to rescue our brave comrade from thestress of the fight."With these words he put heart and soul into them all. ThenSarpedon rebuked Hector very sternly. "Hector," said he, "where isyour prowess now? You used to say that though you had neither peoplenor allies you could hold the town alone with your brothers andbrothers-in-law. I see not one of them here; they cower as houndsbefore a lion; it is we, your allies, who bear the brunt of thebattle. I have come from afar, even from Lycia and the banks of theriver Xanthus, where I have left my wife, my infant son, and muchwealth to tempt whoever is needy; nevertheless, I head my Lyciansoldiers and stand my ground against any who would fight me though Ihave nothing here for the Achaeans to plunder, while you look on,without even bidding your men stand firm in defence of their wives.See that you fall not into the hands of your foes as men caught in themeshes of a net, and they sack your fair city forthwith. Keep thisbefore your mind night and day, and beseech the captains of yourallies to hold on without flinching, and thus put away theirreproaches from you."So spoke Sarpedon, and Hector smarted under his words. He sprangfrom his chariot clad in his suit of armour, and went about amongthe host brandishing his two spears, exhorting the men to fight andraising the terrible cry of battle. Then they rallied and againfaced the Achaeans, but the Argives stood compact and firm, and werenot driven back. As the breezes sport with the chaff upon somegoodly threshing-floor, when men are winnowing- while yellow Ceresblows with the wind to sift the chaff from the grain, and the chaff-heaps grow whiter and whiter- even so did the Achaeans whiten in thedust which the horses' hoofs raised to the firmament of heaven, astheir drivers turned them back to battle, and they bore down withmight upon the foe. Fierce Mars, to help the Trojans, covered themin a veil of darkness, and went about everywhere among them,inasmuch as Phoebus Apollo had told him that when he saw Pallas,Minerva leave the fray he was to put courage into the hearts of theTrojans- for it was she who was helping the Danaans. Then Apollosent Aeneas forth from his rich sanctuary, and filled his heart withvalour, whereon he took his place among his comrades, who wereoverjoyed at seeing him alive, sound, and of a good courage; butthey could not ask him how it had all happened, for they were too busywith the turmoil raised by Mars and by Strife, who raged insatiably intheir midst.The two Ajaxes, Ulysses and Diomed, cheered the Danaans on, fearlessof the fury and onset of the Trojans. They stood as still as cloudswhich the son of Saturn has spread upon the mountain tops when thereis no air and fierce Boreas sleeps with the other boisterous windswhose shrill blasts scatter the clouds in all directions- even sodid the Danaans stand firm and unflinching against the Trojans. Theson of Atreus went about among them and exhorted them. "My friends,"said he, "quit yourselves like brave men, and shun dishonour in oneanother's eyes amid the stress of battle. They that shun dishonourmore often live than get killed, but they that fly save neither lifenor name."As he spoke he hurled his spear and hit one of those who were in thefront rank, the comrade of Aeneas, Deicoon son of Pergasus, whom theTrojans held in no less honour than the sons of Priam, for he was everquick to place himself among the foremost. The spear of King Agamemnonstruck his shield and went right through it, for the shield stayedit not. It drove through his belt into the lower part of his belly,and his armour rang rattling round him as he fell heavily to theground.Then Aeneas killed two champions of the Danaans, Crethon andOrsilochus. Their father was a rich man who lived in the strong cityof Phere and was descended from the river Alpheus, whose broadstream flows through the land of the Pylians. The river begatOrsilochus, who ruled over much people and was father to Diocles,who in his turn begat twin sons, Crethon and Orsilochus, wellskilled in all the arts of war. These, when they grew up, went toIlius with the Argive fleet in the cause of Menelaus and Agamemnonsons of Atreus, and there they both of them fell. As two lions whomtheir dam has reared in the depths of some mountain forest toplunder homesteads and carry off sheep and cattle till they get killedby the hand of man, so were these two vanquished by Aeneas, and felllike high pine-trees to the ground.Brave Menelaus pitied them in their fall, and made his way to thefront, clad in gleaming bronze and brandishing his spear, for Marsegged him on to do so with intent that he should be killed byAeneas; but Antilochus the son of Nestor saw him and sprang forward,fearing that the king might come to harm and thus bring all theirlabour to nothing; when, therefore Aeneas and Menelaus were settingtheir hands and spears against one another eager to do battle,Antilochus placed himself by the side of Menelaus. Aeneas, bold thoughhe was, drew back on seeing the two heroes side by side in front ofhim, so they drew the bodies of Crethon and Orsilochus to the ranks ofthe Achaeans and committed the two poor fellows into the hands oftheir comrades. They then turned back and fought in the front ranks.They killed Pylaemenes peer of Mars, leader of the Paphlagonianwarriors. Menelaus struck him on the collar-bone as he was standing onhis chariot, while Antilochus hit his charioteer and squire Mydon, theson of Atymnius, who was turning his horses in flight. He hit him witha stone upon the elbow, and the reins, enriched with white ivory, fellfrom his hands into the dust. Antilochus rushed towards him and struckhim on the temples with his sword, whereon he fell head first from thechariot to the ground. There he stood for a while with his head andshoulders buried deep in the dust- for he had fallen on sandy soiltill his horses kicked him and laid him flat on the ground, asAntilochus lashed them and drove them off to the host of the Achaeans.

But Hector marked them from across the ranks, and with a loud cryrushed towards them, followed by the strong battalions of the Trojans.Mars and dread Enyo led them on, she fraught with ruthless turmoilof battle, while Mars wielded a monstrous spear, and went about, nowin front of Hector and now behind him.Diomed shook with passion as he saw them. As a man crossing a wideplain is dismayed to find himself on the brink of some great riverrolling swiftly to the sea- he sees its boiling waters and starts backin fear- even so did the son of Tydeus give ground. Then he said tohis men, "My friends, how can we wonder that Hector wields the spearso well? Some god is ever by his side to protect him, and now Marsis with him in the likeness of mortal man. Keep your faces thereforetowards the Trojans, but give ground backwards, for we dare notfight with gods."As he spoke the Trojans drew close up, and Hector killed two men,both in one chariot, Menesthes and Anchialus, heroes well versed inwar. Ajax son of Telamon pitied them in their fall; he came close upand hurled his spear, hitting Amphius the son of Selagus, a man ofgreat wealth who lived in Paesus and owned much corn-growing land, buthis lot had led him to come to the aid of Priam and his sons. Ajaxstruck him in the belt; the spear pierced the lower part of his belly,and he fell heavily to the ground. Then Ajax ran towards him tostrip him of his armour, but the Trojans rained spears upon him,many of which fell upon his shield. He planted his heel upon thebody and drew out his spear, but the darts pressed so heavily upon himthat he could not strip the goodly armour from his shoulders. TheTrojan chieftains, moreover, many and valiant, came about him withtheir spears, so that he dared not stay; great, brave and valiantthough he was, they drove him from them and he was beaten back.Thus, then, did the battle rage between them. Presently the stronghand of fate impelled Tlepolemus, the son of Hercules, a man bothbrave and of great stature, to fight Sarpedon; so the two, son andgrandson of great Jove, drew near to one another, and Tlepolemus spokefirst. "Sarpedon," said he, "councillor of the Lycians, why should youcome skulking here you who are a man of peace? They lie who call youson of aegis-bearing Jove, for you are little like those who were ofold his children. Far other was Hercules, my own brave andlion-hearted father, who came here for the horses of Laomedon, andthough he had six ships only, and few men to follow him, sacked thecity of Ilius and made a wilderness of her highways. You are a coward,and your people are falling from you. For all your strength, and allyour coming from Lycia, you will be no help to the Trojans but willpass the gates of Hades vanquished by my hand."And Sarpedon, captain of the Lycians, answered, "Tlepolemus, yourfather overthrew Ilius by reason of Laomedon's folly in refusingpayment to one who had served him well. He would not give yourfather the horses which he had come so far to fetch. As foryourself, you shall meet death by my spear. You shall yield glory tomyself, and your soul to Hades of the noble steeds."Thus spoke Sarpedon, and Tlepolemus upraised his spear. They threwat the same moment, and Sarpedon struck his foe in the middle of histhroat; the spear went right through, and the darkness of death fellupon his eyes. Tlepolemus's spear struck Sarpedon on the left thighwith such force that it tore through the flesh and grazed the bone,but his father as yet warded off destruction from him.His comrades bore Sarpedon out of the fight, in great pain by theweight of the spear that was dragging from his wound. They were insuch haste and stress as they bore him that no one thought ofdrawing the spear from his thigh so as to let him walk uprightly.Meanwhile the Achaeans carried off the body of Tlepolemus, whereonUlysses was moved to pity, and panted for the fray as he beheldthem. He doubted whether to pursue the son of Jove, or to makeslaughter of the Lycian rank and file; it was not decreed, however,that he should slay the son of Jove; Minerva, therefore, turned himagainst the main body of the Lycians. He killed Coeranus, Alastor,Chromius, Alcandrus, Halius, Noemon, and Prytanis, and would haveslain yet more, had not great Hector marked him, and sped to the frontof the fight clad in his suit of mail, filling the Danaans withterror. Sarpedon was glad when he saw him coming, and besought him,saying, "Son of Priam, let me not he here to fall into the hands ofthe Danaans. Help me, and since I may not return home to gladden thehearts of my wife and of my infant son, let me die within the walls ofyour city."Hector made him no answer, but rushed onward to fall at once uponthe Achaeans and. kill many among them. His comrades then boreSarpedon away and laid him beneath Jove's spreading oak tree. Pelagon,his friend and comrade drew the spear out of his thigh, but Sarpedonfainted and a mist came over his eyes. Presently he came to himselfagain, for the breath of the north wind as it played upon him gave himnew life, and brought him out of the deep swoon into which he hadfallen.Meanwhile the Argives were neither driven towards their ships byMars and Hector, nor yet did they attack them; when they knew thatMars was with the Trojans they retreated, but kept their faces stillturned towards the foe. Who, then, was first and who last to beslain by Mars and Hector? They were valiant Teuthras, and Orestesthe renowned charioteer, Trechus the Aetolian warrior, Oenomaus,Helenus the son of Oenops, and Oresbius of the gleaming girdle, whowas possessed of great wealth, and dwelt by the Cephisian lake withthe other Boeotians who lived near him, owners of a fertile country.Now when the goddess Juno saw the Argives thus falling, she saidto Minerva, "Alas, daughter of aegis-bearing Jove, unweariable, thepromise we made Menelaus that he should not return till he hadsacked the city of Ilius will be of none effect if we let Mars ragethus furiously. Let us go into the fray at once."Minerva did not gainsay her. Thereon the august goddess, daughter ofgreat Saturn, began to harness her gold-bedizened steeds. Hebe withall speed fitted on the eight-spoked wheels of bronze that were oneither side of the iron axle-tree. The felloes of the wheels were ofgold, imperishable, and over these there was a tire of bronze,wondrous to behold. The naves of the wheels were silver, turning roundthe axle upon either side. The car itself was made with plaitedbands of gold and silver, and it had a double top-rail running allround it. From the body of the car there went a pole of silver, onto the end of which she bound the golden yoke, with the bands ofgold that were to go under the necks of the horses Then Juno put hersteeds under the yoke, eager for battle and the war-cry.Meanwhile Minerva flung her richly embroidered vesture, made withher own hands, on to her father's threshold, and donned the shirt ofJove, arming herself for battle. She threw her tasselled aegisabout. her shoulders, wreathed round with Rout as with a fringe, andon it were Strife, and Strength, and Panic whose blood runs cold;moreover there was the head of the dread monster Gorgon,, grim andawful to behold, portent of aegis-bearing Jove. On her head she sether helmet of gold, with four plumes, and coming to a peak both infront and behind- decked with the emblems of a hundred cities; thenshe stepped into her flaming chariot and grasped the spear, so stoutand sturdy and strong, with which she quells the ranks of heroes whohave displeased her. Juno lashed the horses on, and the gates ofheaven bellowed as they flew open of their own accord -gates overwhich the flours preside, in whose hands are Heaven and Olympus,either to open the dense cloud that hides them, or to close it.Through these the goddesses drove their obedient steeds, and found theson of Saturn sitting all alone on the topmost ridges of Olympus.There Juno stayed her horses, and spoke to Jove the son of Saturn,lord of all. "Father Jove," said she, "are you not angry with Mars forthese high doings? how great and goodly a host of the Achaeans hehas destroyed to my great grief, and without either right or reason,while the Cyprian and Apollo are enjoying it all at their ease andsetting this unrighteous madman on to do further mischief. I hope,Father Jove, that you will not be angry if I hit Mars hard, andchase him out of the battle."And Jove answered, "Set Minerva on to him, for she punishes him moreoften than any one else does."Juno did as he had said. She lashed her horses, and they flewforward nothing loth midway betwixt earth and sky. As far as a man cansee when he looks out upon the sea from some high beacon, so far canthe loud-neighing horses of the gods spring at a single bound. Whenthey reached Troy and the place where its two flowing streams Simoisand Scamander meet, there Juno stayed them and took them from thechariot. She hid them in a thick cloud, and Simois made ambrosiaspring up for them to eat; the two goddesses then went on, flying liketurtledoves in their eagerness to help the Argives. When they cameto the part where the bravest and most in number were gathered aboutmighty Diomed, fighting like lions or wild boars of great strength andendurance, there Juno stood still and raised a shout like that ofbrazen-voiced Stentor, whose cry was as loud as that of fifty mentogether. "Argives," she cried; "shame on cowardly creatures, brave insemblance only; as long as Achilles was fighting, fi his spear wasso deadly that the Trojans dared not show themselves outside theDardanian gates, but now they sally far from the city and fight evenat your ships."With these words she put heart and soul into them all, while Minervasprang to the side of the son of Tydeus, whom she found near hischariot and horses, cooling the wound that Pandarus had given him. Forthe sweat caused by the hand that bore the weight of his shieldirritated the hurt: his arm was weary with pain, and he was lifting upthe strap to wipe away the blood. The goddess laid her hand on theyoke of his horses and said, "The son of Tydeus is not such another ashis father. Tydeus was a little man, but he could fight, and rushedmadly into the fray even when I told him not to do so. When he wentall unattended as envoy to the city of Thebes among the Cadmeans, Ibade him feast in their houses and be at peace; but with that highspirit which was ever present with him, he challenged the youth of theCadmeans, and at once beat them in all that he attempted, somightily did I help him. I stand by you too to protect you, and Ibid you be instant in fighting the Trojans; but either you are tiredout, or you are afraid and out of heart, and in that case I say thatyou are no true son of Tydeus the son of Oeneus."Diomed answered, "I know you, goddess, daughter of aegis-bearingJove, and will hide nothing from you. I am not afraid nor out ofheart, nor is there any slackness in me. I am only following yourown instructions; you told me not to fight any of the blessed gods;but if Jove's daughter Venus came into battle I was to wound herwith my spear. Therefore I am retreating, and bidding the otherArgives gather in this place, for I know that Mars is now lording itin the field.""Diomed, son of Tydeus," replied Minerva, "man after my own heart,fear neither Mars nor any other of the immortals, for I willbefriend you. Nay, drive straight at Mars, and smite him in closecombat; fear not this raging madman, villain incarnate, first on oneside and then on the other. But now he was holding talk with Junoand myself, saying he would help the Argives and attack the Trojans;nevertheless he is with the Trojans, and has forgotten the Argives."With this she caught hold of Sthenelus and lifted him off thechariot on to the ground. In a second he was on the ground,whereupon the goddess mounted the car and placed herself by the sideof Diomed. The oaken axle groaned aloud under the burden of theawful goddess and the hero; Pallas Minerva took the whip and reins,and drove straight at Mars. He was in the act of stripping hugePeriphas, son of Ochesius and bravest of the Aetolians. Bloody Marswas stripping him of his armour, and Minerva donned the helmet ofHades, that he might not see her; when, therefore, he saw Diomed, hemade straight for him and let Periphas lie where he had fallen. Assoon as they were at close quarters he let fly with his bronze spearover the reins and yoke, thinking to take Diomed's life, but Minervacaught the spear in her hand and made it fly harmlessly over thechariot. Diomed then threw, and Pallas Minerva drove the spear intothe pit of Mars's stomach where his under-girdle went round him. ThereDiomed wounded him, tearing his fair flesh and then drawing hisspear out again. Mars roared as loudly as nine or ten thousand menin the thick of a fight, and the Achaeans and Trojans were struck withpanic, so terrible was the cry he raised.As a dark cloud in the sky when it comes on to blow after heat, evenso did Diomed son of Tydeus see Mars ascend into the broad heavens.With all speed he reached high Olympus, home of the gods, and in greatpain sat down beside Jove the son of Saturn. He showed Jove theimmortal blood that was flowing from his wound, and spoke piteously,saying, "Father Jove, are you not angered by such doings? We godsare continually suffering in the most cruel manner at one another'shands while helping mortals; and we all owe you a grudge for havingbegotten that mad termagant of a daughter, who is always committingoutrage of some kind. We other gods must all do as you bid us, but heryou neither scold nor punish; you encourage her because thepestilent creature is your daughter. See how she has been incitingproud Diomed to vent his rage on the immortal gods. First he went upto the Cyprian and wounded her in the hand near her wrist, and then hesprang upon me too as though he were a god. Had I not run for it Imust either have lain there for long enough in torments among theghastly corpes, or have been eaten alive with spears till I had nomore strength left in me."Jove looked angrily at him and said, "Do not come whining here,Sir Facing-bothways. I hate you worst of all the gods in Olympus,for you are ever fighting and making mischief. You have theintolerable and stubborn spirit of your mother Juno: it is all I cando to manage her, and it is her doing that you are now in this plight:still, I cannot let you remain longer in such great pain; you are myown off-spring, and it was by me that your mother conceived you; if,however, you had been the son of any other god, you are so destructivethat by this time you should have been lying lower than the Titans."He then bade Paeeon heal him, whereon Paeeon spread pain-killingherbs upon his wound and cured him, for he was not of mortal mould. Asthe juice of the fig-tree curdles milk, and thickens it in a momentthough it is liquid, even so instantly did Paeeon cure fierce Mars.Then Hebe washed him, and clothed him in goodly raiment, and he tookhis seat by his father Jove all glorious to behold.But Juno of Argos and Minerva of Alalcomene, now that they had put astop to the murderous doings of Mars, went back again to the houseof Jove.

Naming A Few Men

Naming a few men is too special, Beasts of burden carry messages to them.Riding a car or animal needs fuel, It may be grit and steel to use your bodyBut those animals in the ground are not foolish.Name them like a man who knows, He understands basics and knowledge too great.May the special noose be around a man of steel, And then to hang him seems too special.Name him one of those throwing actions to commit, Acting the very same as animals.

Few 'May' Have a Clue

The life given to me, I have made it my own.With time taken to structure, And develop with interests...All that what was needed, To make adjustments and correct.And sometimes finding myself...Defenseless against a public critiquing done.

But what I've chosen to do, Was to prove to 'myself'...Challenges and obstacles I will face.And fear I may feel...But its appearance from me will not be shown.Few 'may' have a clue what it has taken...Even to produce 'this', For others to disregard 'after' they read!

To Some I Have Talked With By The Fire

WHILE I wrought out these fitful Danaan rhymes,My heart would brim with dreams about the timesWhen we bent down above the fading coalsAnd talked of the dark folk who live in soulsOf passionate men, like bats in the dead trees;And of the wayward twilight companiesWho sigh with mingled sorrow and content,Because their blossoming dreams have never bentUnder the fruit of evil and of good:And of the embattled flaming multitudeWho rise, wing above wing, flame above flame,And, like a storm, cry the Ineffable Name,And with the clashing of their sword-blades makeA rapturous music, till the morning breakAnd the white hush end all but the loud beatOf their long wings, the flash of their white feet.

King Arthur's Men Have Come Again

[Written while a field-worker in the Anti-Saloon League of Illinois.]

King Arthur's men have come again. They challenge everywhere The foes of Christ's Eternal Church. Her incense crowns the air. The heathen knighthood cower and curse To hear the bugles ring, But spears are set, the charge is on, Wise Arthur shall be king!

And Cromwell's men have come again, I meet them in the street. Stern but in this — no way of thorns Shall snare the children's feet. The reveling foemen wreak but waste, A sodden poisonous band. Fierce Cromwell builds the flower-bright towns, And a more sunlit land!

And Lincoln's men have come again. Up from the South he flayed, The grandsons of his foes arise In his own cause arrayed. They rise for freedom and clean laws High laws, that shall endure. Our God establishes his arm And makes the battle sure!

The Man Who Climbs The Highest Pole Of The Bridge...

at the highest bridge on the city ofCebu a man in his twentiesclimbs the pole and sits there overlookingthe citythe City is in panicfor he must be savedhis name is taken: JuanMolina,32 years old, a thief, jobless, and withoutany known relativesand he is so hungryand it is so hot at the topand he is coming downif there is something toeat

they thought he is going to jumpand kill himself

which is not the fact of the casehe simply wants to seethe whole damned cityof leaders who cannot understandthat he too needs workto have money to buy something toeat to pay for the rent of his boarding space, his bills, and his toothpasteand soap

all the while the city is angrythis man must be sent to prisonwe are so disturbedand he creates the massiveconfusion

I Have A House Against The Sugar-Bush Hillocks

I have a house against the sugar-bush hillockswhere like orange speckles aloes grow wild, where thunder strikes iron stones blue-whitewith flowering proteas growing everywhere

and I see chacma baboons impudentcoming in a horde to my fruit orchard, eating some whole peaches with meat and pitsin a blatant aggressive noisy group,

before they all run away indignantand they are gone before the dark night comeswhen storm clouds hang threatening black and grey, with lightning bolts hitting some blue-white sparksand every visitor that knocks on my dooris awaited like a welcome kind of guest.he brushes his jean off making it neatand then he turns right around to face mewhere he is looking somewhat tattered,

he stands without any words as if dumbbut his words lie in every glance, suddenly I see the whole of humanitywhose glances do not quarter for anything

bringing the hurt, the pain that oppression brings, telling how men that can work are jobless, how this evil still circles out wider, treading some people down without pity, how it pierces the Afrikaner nation, as a type of evil occurrence.

Mothers Of The World

to all the mothers in the world-who are raising their liitleboys and girls.-it is plain to see that you have a tremendous responsibilty.whether we are single or with a spousehave an apartment or a house.not many people know the pain you go through.except the ones who are close to you.when you are single and no one to give a helping handand no one to encourage you-or ease your pain.it will never be the same-as someone with a caring spousewho is a man and not a louse.you struggle to give them all you can without the help of a man.for there are very few men who will take on the responsibilityof raising someone else's kids.unless they are in the same boat as you-and don't knowwhat to do raising his children on his own-in hopes that they will be big and strong-and for them to see-he is holding his responsibility.so if this man and woman can join forces as onethere is nothing under the sun-that can shake their faithin the one up above-for he has given them this love.and for the women who do have a man to sharethe responsibility.-don't ever set them free-because what you give up todaysome one else will pick up the slack, and never give him back.

The Highest Of The High - Pt2

Part 2You exist eternally having no beginning or endand in reality You're the most sought after friend.In those who are pure at heart and mind You are so easily found, and if anyone learns to speak Your language You always come around.In times of need, especially when the world is in much turmoil, You make Your appearance on earth undergoing incredible toil.To one and all You give each a gentle push forwarddoing Your ages old duty bringing all closer towardthat state of existence which is indescribable for any to expressmaking available Your glorious nature by compassion nevertheless.

You are the Avatar - God incarnate in human form, the oldest and wisest being exceeding all rivals born.In each new age that You are brought downby those Five who have been chosen to crownYou as The Highest of the High and hand over the reinsof the entire creation for You to steer away from the painsand hidden fears of seemingly premature self-destruction, by Thine infinite divine attributes You overcome all obstruction.

You haven't come here to establish a new society, organization or religionbringbut to revitalise and bring together all that have come before like beads on astring.Undergoing infinite suffering while in the body for humanity's sake You areonly asking for love in return from those who know You as MEHER BABA.

A great deal of Thy work was done with those Wayfarer souls, Thine intimate lovers, scattered all around, playing their unique roles, but appearing somewhat dazed and destitute like other madmen around, You recognised they were intoxicated from Divine Love true and profound.Nourishing and satisfying their inner yearnings You helped them all get alongand when realising Whom they were with, knew it was to You they did belong.Also You washed, clothed and fed many of the other unfortunate onessharing with each an intimate moment of love for which You had come.It was because of Thy greatness and glory that You achieved all this and moreshowing all mankind, by love and compassion, the road that leads to Your door.

The Victory Day

The 8th -9th of May – the Greatest Day, the Saint Holiday – the Victory Day.A holiday with glee and spree, a holiday with tears that appearremembering those soldiers, the heroes of the Second World War.Those hardcore days we don’t want to face anymore.That was the largest warin the history of mankind, I don’t want you to be blindbut to know and remember the facts: almost 58 million of men were lost.Wasn’t it the highest cost? 62 countries out of 73fought against fascist regimein one international team.More than 80% of the Earth populationwere involved in military operation, covering the territories of 40 countries, bringing only grief, hunger, sufferings and worries.I looked at the pictures of those young guys, those heroes of the Second World Warand tried to realize who they were before.It’s difficult to guess but I would like to suggest: among them was someone’s sonwho had never seen a gun, someone’s first student or a teacher, someone’s darling, friend or a preacher.They had laid down in the fields of fightsstruggling for freedom and human rights.They had given their lives for you and me, for everyone to be free and live happily, for the grass to be green, for the sky to be blue and clean.Someone in ancient times once said: “If you want peace be ready for the war.”These words are not for today.Yes, we shout “Hurray! ”But if we want peacewe have to do everything for love to increaseBut not use military forcewhich is only the source of sufferings and the losseswith so many costs.Yes, we celebrate this day and shout “Hurray”, say “Cheers”wishing everyone live in lasting peace, not to know a war decease.We remember the most impressive celebrationwhen two nations: American and Russian soldiersmet on the banks of the Elbe and could finally seethe end of that horrible war.With admiration and joyfully they embraced one anotheras if they were old friends or even brothers.So, today, on the 8th of May I would like to say: Peoples of our planet Earth! Remember! We are the part of the whole Universe.Take care of our Land! Everyone has to understand: if you want peaceYou have to do everything for love to increase.

The Highest Of The High - Pt1

Part 1A pilgrimage to Thy feet someday I hope to makewhere I no longer will be, except as dust, for Your saketo please You and seek Your pleasure to datewhen knowing You are really my best mate.If You appear to be hard on me I will knowthere's something more You wish me to forego.

You have a habit of working in unfathomable waysmind boggling to those who attempt such displaysas knowing Your will when Your whim's holding swayrevealing their ignorance and causing some dismay.

You have and use the capacity of a universal mindstaggering to the imagination leaving it far behind, being the subtlest of the subtle and pervading all planesthroughout the three worlds You're the One who entertains.Whether in apparent joy or sorrow remaining always the sameestablished in reality and far beyond the opposites' game.

You're the perfect mirror reflecting what and where we are; as being unrealistic and caught in illusion, not going very far.When we recognise our situation and let You take us by the hand, with all faith and humility, we can reach that place where You stand.

Outwardly You appear to have a most unassuming statureyet inwardly possessing spiritual wealth of an infinite nature.You radiate divine love to all who come before You; in Thy presence it's like drowning and melting intoa supremely blissful existence beyond any worldly experience.An intense yet somewhat cooling fire of love, in all consciencelike an inner awakening and emerging into a fathomless being, all around as inseparable parts of an infinite ocean and seeingthat there is nothing else to behold in formless eternitywhich is really our true nature and immaculate reality.

You have indicated that You're the One many seek but so few findand that You are the Ancient One; being The Only One of a kind.This time around though You have come not to teach but to awakenand by remaining silent, through Your silence, the world will be shaken.Perhaps like an oncoming storm where lightning is seen before thunderYour glory will manifest regardless of what is going on down under.Eventually ushering in the New Humanity of which You have spokenand uttering One Word, everywhere resounding, Your silence is broken.Revealing Your greatest manifestation as You long ago statedthence Your Final Declaration will thus never be outdated.--------------------Note: This is my poem about a person known as Meher Baba who was a very highly regarded 20th Century Spiritual Master and believed to be the Avatar who like Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, Krishna, Rama, Zoroaster, etc. comes down or appears once every several hundred years to help and guide mankind forwards. I have divided it into two parts because of its length. I have also referred the name of Meher Baba in a few other poems in my collection.